Chapter 55: The Feeling is Mutual

"Lucky you."

Music

The innocent and entirely uncertain look in your eye elicits an immediate groan from the succubus. "You're fucking hopeless. I don't even want to be your first. I just want to show you a good time! You're crazy enough that I can get really creative, Daddy. I don't mean anything by it."

Something leaks into her voice. It's not Mercy, nor an imitation of Celegwen or even lust.

She sounds terrified, as she wraps both of her arms back around you, holding you so close you can scarcely breathe. "Don't fucking test me. Don't tell me no. I know you're sick of being told what you can't do, too."

Mercy and Flesh have seen fit to bless me in a way that I don't think I'll ever fully understand.

This still isn't gray. I know that I'd be breaking my vows to show any intimacy to this demon.

Is this all she really wants?

"Remigius— I think you're wrong."

"What the fuck did you say to me?"

You'd expect her to pull away, but the succubus instead leans hard into the embrace, and reaches behind your back. She pulls on the chain connecting to your wrists with so much force that you're shocked your shoulder doesn't detach completely. The pain is so blinding that you can't reply.

At this rate, she's not going to need to spike a drink to completely rob me of my senses.

You might have screamed— but either way, your words are cut short as she leans closer in. The points of her teeth clip on the sides of your neck and ear as she barks at you. "I'm not trying to kill you. I'm not asking for you to forsake anything. You've got one fucking job, can't even get the balls to do it— and you're questioning me?!"

It's all you can do to catch your breath, to try and see again through the blinding pain, to keep your composure.

She starts pulling again. Your words spill out as quickly as you're able. "I don't know if y-you're lying or—! Or if it's been so long for you— with other demons that you've f-forgotten, but you've already been playing with far—!! M-Mercy—! Crazy— crazier demons! If their revelry was a-any indication of what th-they liked—! Stop, please—"

You don't question that she won't stop until both of your arms are dislocated, or until you can't control yourself any longer. Her words drip with promise. "No. I want you to say it."

"Remigius, I know— I'm not even close to being that crazy— M-Mercy—!"

"What the fuck do you call this, then? You've made a huge spectacle of yourself, Daddy, and I know this is far from the first time. Do I really need to keep pulling?"

"Yes, aaah— I mean— no! No! At least— I mean— okay, I'm crazy in a c-completely different way—"

"There it is. Go on!"

"I d-don't want you to s-stop— Mercy, Remigius— but I— I need you to understand— I would never hurt someone like that. Not for why— why you're thinking—"

The succubus actually lets up on your shoulders. "That's interesting. You even sicker than I thought?"

Slowly relieving the tension and relaxing the chain, she lets you breathe, to think of anything chaste enough to keep your mind and body from spilling over. You try to close your eyes, to catch your breath, to get any sort of relief— but a hand grasps onto your face firmly, stealing your attention back instantly.

"Oh no. We're just getting started. Don't you fucking dare."

"N-no, Remi— I— I mean to say— I have a proposition—" It's difficult to speak with her white-gold and utterly immaculate hands so close to you. You jerk your head away as best as your able. The fire in your green eyes is lit with so much desperation that she actually pauses to let you finish. "You can— you want to get creative, right?"

"This is more like it. What do you have in mind?"

"Yech has instilled— he has instilled a new appreciation for sport in me. Gambling. Games. We'll roll some dice, we can flip a coin— it doesn't matter. You choose. But—" You actually have the demon's full attention. "Whoever wins the gamble..." She hangs on your last words, leaning in slightly. Her breath catches. "...gets a punch in."

There's a long pause between you two.

She punches you right under your chest, and knocks the wind completely from your sails. Blood comes up. The light in the room is replaced with flecks of gold and spots of candlelight.

The demon's weight comes off from you, and you instantly try to keel over— only to pull harder at the chain that's been twisting at your anguished back and shoulders. It's almost more than you can stand. You're reminded of the abandoned Church of Mercy, of being so overwhelmed that you could scarcely think or see. Of hiding under rubble, fighting with yourself to not draw out more. To stop moving.

To listen to the distant voice of a demon, as she whines and sarcastically groans over your poor attempts to breathe. "You've got to be fucking kidding me. This guy is hopeless! Lucky I can't say no."

Before you can even start to regain your composure, the demon is sitting on you again. She's altogether too eager to run her hands along your torso. Pressing her fingers deep into the blossoming bruises. Holding onto your sides. Dancing along the bandages. Poking happily at your frame.

Each motion is agonizingly perfect and you can't fathom lasting more than a few more seconds. Her weight shifts slightly on your lap as you bite your lip, begging, "M-Mercy, Remigius. Please. I—"

The succubus actually complies. She leans back, cooing and murmuring at you while easing up on the physical assault. "That's better. Let's fucking play, then."

There's a gold coin being held in front of your face. It's blurry, but the head is being shown to you plainly. It bears an uncanny resemblance to King Magnus. "Top..." She flips it around. The backside is of the symbol of the Church of Time: an hourglass. "...or bottom, Daddy? Oh and don't worry— I'll let your arm loose if you need it."

You almost open your mouth to protest, but Remigius places a finger to your lips to silence you briefly. There's a strong urge to bite her finger off, but you try to show some decency, and merely lean back to observe the excitement in her vacant eyes and golden flesh.

"This is way too boring, so let's make this more interesting. Whoever wins the coin toss gets to add an additional condition. It's gotta be physical. None of this 'I win and you let me go' nonsense. We'll drink, and eat, and I'll even fucking beat you to death if that's what you really want. We'll go 'til the night's out, or you can't go anymore."

You almost move to speak, but Remigius grinds herself against you again, stealing your protest away completely. "I know you won't last longer than me, Daddy. If I win the toss, I punch you again, and you don't show any restraint. Make as much noise as you want."

"Nnnnn— fine, fine, that's fine! Will you get off of me—?"

"Not so fast. What are your terms, Daddy?"

"You'll— you'll get off of me, and bind one of your arms down. To the s-seat, or what have you. Make this fast—"

"You are fun. Alright."

The coin is flipped with a perfect spin, straight above you both. The demon shouts, "Call it!"

"Tails!"

She catches the item, covering the object for only a moment to gloat. "I mean it couldn't be more obvious that you were a bottom, Daddy, but honestly, being so bold about it, even for me—"

The backside of the coin reflects the demon's pseudo-radiance back onto her crestfallen face. She sneers.

You won.

"Lucky you." With no small measure of irritation, the succubus peels herself off of your lap, coming around your back to unfasten the restraint around your wrist. She (of course) leaves the shackle and all of the chain's weight on the more injured side.

Rolling your shoulder on your fairly undamaged shoulder for only a moment, you wind back and don't wait another second before striking the demon clean across the face.

Your absolute lack of hesitation sends her reeling harder than the hit. It's hard not to hiss and relish the sting across your knuckles from contacting metal with such certainty.

Though your bound arm and shoulder screams from the sudden motion, you take even more pleasure in seeing that you've left a mark on the monster. You can't even be bothered to care that your hand is bleeding again. There's a trail of reddened gold lingering on Remigius' parted lips.

"Thank you, Remigius. You didn't have to even the odds for me."

She glares at you with so much fire in her eyes, you nearly draw back. In an instant, she's stalking across the room, and fishes around in a pile of "equipment" ("Mercy—") for some sort of additional restraint.

Hatred radiates from her as she returns, and as she sits across from you as provocatively as possible. With a flourish, she pulls out a studded leather bracelet. It's caked in rubies and diamonds.

She goes to drag the item across your thighs, and you grab as firmly as you can onto her wrist with your free hand. Righteous satisfaction is all through your warning. "No, Remigius. You're lucky I didn't ask you to break your arm. This is going straight on, and then we're playing again."

"Shut the fuck up." In a few fluid motions, Remigius snaps the restraint to one of several loops in the floor, and then to her own wrist. "Condescending piece of shit." There's quite a few hooks and chains interspersed between the fur rugs. "This is fucking bullshit." The succubus leaves absolutely no slack in the chain that's now tight against the band around her wrist.

As if to make a point, she pulls with extreme strength at the chain. The metal screeches in complaint, but her hand and wrist stays a safe distance away from you. "There. Happy?"

"Rarely, if ever. This is a start, though."

"You fucking sicken me."

"The feeling is mutual."

"Are we still punching each other?"

"I'm not complaining— but you tell me, Remigius."

"You fucking bet. And I'm getting some drinks in you if I win this. I'm going to make you hurt, Daddy, and I don't want you to fucking like it."

"Your taste isn't nearly as good as Yech's. I've already been disappointed—"

She practically screams in frustration, bringing her legs together to try and kick you. You can't help but wonder how much damage is being done to the left side of your body, but deflect the blow as best as you're able, and gasp at the motion.

"Shut the FUCK up. We'll see how much you want to talk when I'm through with you. Where did I put that fucking coin..." The succubus feels around her chest for a moment, and pulls the coin out from her cleavage.

Glaring at you, she makes a scene of licking the silver and gold off of the item before waving it in your face.

"...Mercy."

"Bottoms up, right, Daddy?! Let's see what else you got. Come on. You can think of something much worse for me, can't you? I'm not pulling my fucking punches either!"

It's apparent that you're locked into tails, but you still have lots of room to decide how to tilt this situation in your favor.

Wait until Yech hears about this.

"Neither am I, Remigius. If I win, you have to match anything that I drink tonight. Anything. You wanted to have some fun, right?"

"Shut the fuck up. Let's do this."

Another flip.

The demon's face could not be any more distraught as the coin lands.

The hourglass glares back at her. It's another success.

You grin possibly broader than you ever have, as you wind up and deal out another punch square across the demon's face. The force of the blow turns her head aside. A few flecks of gold and blood catching the air as she's nearly knocked over.

Mercy, this feels good. I could barely wield a mace without Flesh before. I really need to thank Yech.

Remigius pulls tightly on the chain around her wrist, reflexively going to rub at the site of the injury— and finds herself entirely unable to. Your smile broadens. It may be in part from the blossoming pain in your shoulder, your bleeding knuckles and the ache in your back— but you know it's mostly from your success.

Spitting out another wad of blood, Remigius whips her head around and arcs the crimson towards your face. Your reflexes are way too slow from the amount of pain you're in to dodge aside, but you happily wipe the spittle away.

Your continued smile feels terribly unnatural, but you can't help yourself. "Do you think you have any vodka? Martinis? Something fruity, maybe— Yech seemed to not be very fond of anything lighter—"

The succubus wipes the last of the blood from her face, licks it from her hands, and looks at you so murderously that it puts any other demon you've seen to shame. Every word that falls from her lips drips with bloody intent. "You're so fucking full of yourself— I'm going to fucking ruin you, Daddy. I'm getting the fucking funnel and packing you with half of that entire bar when I win. You're still a mortal. I can do this all day! You fucking bet I'll match you! I HOPE IT FUCKING KILLS YOU!"

Your smile wanes rapidly. A large part of you wants to pray.

"So what'll it be then?! I know you don't have the fucking balls to do anything more than hit a woman!"

"Hit a woman? Remigius— if I win this toss, you're taking on the form of someone with an even lower constitution than I have. Surely, you can change form again?"

"Daddy, I can be whatever you need me to be, but there's no fucking chance that you're winning this again! No one is that lucky. Not even your holy ass."

You both eagerly watch as the coin flips through the air. It lands perfectly on Remigius' outstretched hand. She slaps the metal onto her arm, revealing it without hesitation.

The hourglass beams back at you.

"May the Gods be praised." There's no doubt that you're wearing the biggest grin of your life. You dig your wrist into the restraint on your damaged arm, pulling to better reach the succubus. The anticipation that courses through your abused limb only makes the movement sweeter.

"Wait. Wait just a—"

You swing with absolute conviction, slamming your bloodied fist straight into the demon's face, and smearing your victory across her immaculate cheek. You're so utterly delighted by your success that you can scarcely see past the blooming pain in your shoulder, the residual throbbing in your chest, the wounds on your hands, or the gold glinting back at you.

The succubus reels, mouth agape, and puts a hand to her face. It's obvious that her pain tolerance is utterly eclipsed by yours. Her breath is heavy— her chest heaving— obviously taking little gratification in your works or your absolute satisfaction.

She has to take a moment to spit out the blood you've produced before darting her eyes up with so much hatred and frustration that you begin to question what you're even doing.

I came here to show this demon Mercy— and I'm beating her half to death?

There's a familiar bend of metal and liquid, as the form before you finally changes. The white gold and silver pools and shape into something much more akin to a healthy skin color. Celegwen's similarity, the eerie resemblance to Mercy's light, the pearls and all of her perfection warps into several vaguely humanoid forms for longer than you'd care for.

It occurs to you that she may be struggling to decide on how to present herself. "Anything is fine, Remigius. So long as you won't be able to kill me so easily."

The flesh and metal twists and pull into the most androgynous form you've ever seen. A smooth, hideously thin, and young humanoid figure with stark red hair congeals onto the chair in front of you. Its wrist is still encased in Remigius' shackle. You know it must be the same demon, though the light has left its voice, and all traces of Celegwen's imitation are gone. You find yourself questioning what you're doing once more as their form becomes still. There's an inherent weakness to everything about the demon. She pulls her arms to their chest, covering the flat and papery-thin skin with meager arms. It's decidedly a woman, but she is so devoid of any strength or beauty that it's difficult to label her as such.

She bares her pointed teeth at you again. The width of her mouth nearly splits her face in two. "Fuck you. Fine. We won't drink. I'll settle for lacing your fucking food. If I win, you're eating whatever I do with the supplies Yech sent you with."

​

This demon doesn't know when to quit. What's wrong with her? Why is she making this so difficult?

"Remigius— we don't have to do this. I came here to show you Mercy, not to beat you, and not to make you suffer even further—"

"Just shut the fuck up. You have no fucking idea what you're doing. Idonea is even more naive than you are, to think that you're worth more than the trash you wear around your neck. I don't need your fucking help. You don't know the first thing about what I need. You're fighting everything I want to do— tooth and fucking nail— and you only stop when I'm making you feel bad? How can you be so self-centered—?!"

The demon moves to swing a fist at you, but uses the hand that's shackled to the bench without thinking. Her arm is pulled back hard, and she nearly screams in frustration. "You're a fucking idiot! Make your bet! I've got you 'til morning to spoil, and I'll fucking show her just how useless you are."

"I don't know how long it's been since someone has showed you any kindness, Remigius—" There's a harsh bark from the succubus that you might mistake for a laugh. She doesn't interrupt further. "—but I would like for you to take whichever form you wish, if I win again."

"That's so generous of you, Daddy. So generous. Let's see if your luck holds out, you piece of shit."

With significantly less grace than before, the wiry demon tosses the coin into the air, and catches it on her arm.

As soon as it lands, she greedily reveals it, baring her pointed teeth at you with so much satisfaction that you immediately begin to wonder if you will leave her company alive.

The King's face leers at you both. A loss.

You tense, eagerly anticipating a blow. Nothing hits you.

The demon gestures broadly. She's obviously casting a spell. You look with abject horror to the bag that Yech gifted to you as it careens across the floor. Pulled by Remigius' incantation, several rugs are knocked aside before it slides to a stop adjacent to the chair you're both reclining on.

Still gesturing with her shackled hand, the succubus conjures a mixture of blood and flesh out of the thin air. The liquid and viscera courses rapidly into your belongings.

"My journal—! Remigius! Stop—!"

"Shut your fucking mouth. It's only getting on the food. Good thing I don't have to match this, hmm?"

The demon starts to dig through your things. Her shark-like grin cuts across her entire face with a distinctly inhuman viciousness. You realize why, as she removes enough food from your bag to easily feed you and your companions through the week. The abundance of gifts menacingly drip with red fibers and the promise of something far more sinister than their original intent.

Remigius' grin is consuming her face. "Looks like Yech really did help me out."

"What do you even want with me, Remigius? I can't touch you. I can't show you Mercy if you won't let me help you. I can hardly even talk to you, let alone—"

"You can hardly talk to anyone, you dense piece of shit. You'll talk all fucking day about th—" The demon's words catch in her throat. She stops her gesturing for a moment, bringing her hands to her mouth as if she were to vomit.

You try to finish her sentence for her, cringing, hating the accusation but altogether too uncomfortable to not finish her sentence. "About the Gods."

There's a gasp as she pulls away with a pallor on her face, and so much fury in her eyes that you draw back. "FUCK you, Dick. Fuck you! You know it, too! You know that you'll blather on about yourself and— you know— everything else, you'll preach and preach and never fucking do a goddamn thing you're supposed to you FUCKING hypocrite!"

Shaking once more, she resumes the spell. What little muscle is in her incredibly thin limbs catches in the candlelight. She moves with so much intensity you expect every motion to be an attack.

"You're too fucking eager for punishment, Daddy. You act like you're the fucking victim in all this, but you just keep digging in, taking more and MORE and never fucking KNOWING when to quit! You come into my fucking home and act like you're doing me a favor?! You think you're fit for ANYTHING?!

The sheer amount of time she's taking to cast has your nerves even more on edge than the piercing pain through your shoulder, chest and back.

"I'll show you what a fucking glutton you are. I'll show you how unfit you are for anything." Remigius grabs firmly onto your wrist, making no effort to moderate herself. Her nails dig into your skin as she forces a block of blood into your fingers. It was a ration.

Either the constant pain you've endured through the evening is making your tremor worse, or you're too worked up to keep your hands still. The quivering, deep crimson reminds you so much of the tissue around the demon's domain that you don't doubt it's made of her very flesh.

"You say you're a man of your word, but that's all you've fucking got going for you. I can't believe that you think you rate taking on Idonea's shit. You can't even fucking stop yourself from playing with a succubus— a fucking slut— I mean, just fucking look at me! You can't stop looking at me, and you won't stop for a second to ask about your friends?! You left them with me without a fucking fight! You haven't even tried to get out of here— you didn't even ask if they were okay!"

"I haven't— you've been beating me half to death tonight, Remigius. I've been terrified for my friends. For everyone's safety. There's never any time, there's never any chance—"

"You call that an excuse? This is a fucking sedative, you piece of shit. This is a fucking excuse. You're not leaving here tonight. Not on my fucking watch. You're not hurting anyone else but me."

You don't want to fight her. You came here to do something for her. To show her Mercy.

"I'm actually going to kill you if you don't hold up your end of the bargain, Dick. Eat. I know it's going to hurt. I know you aren't going to like this. You wanted to show me— THEN STOP FUCKING STARING AT IT!"

You keep your word.

You take the demon's offering.